


I Exist I Exist I Exist

by tylerwrites



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Grieving!Ryan, M/M, Pining, Protective!Shane, Slow Burn, brent dies lol, idk - Freeform, it's cute tho, it's super domestic, shyan, shyan angst, sorry bront, theres a lot of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-18 02:21:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14202966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tylerwrites/pseuds/tylerwrites
Summary: Based off the "I'm in love with you, and that fucking terrifies me" prompt!Brent passes away in early spring, leaving an all too familiar hole in Ryan's chest, but Shane's there. Shane's always been there.





	I Exist I Exist I Exist

**Author's Note:**

> yeah okay obvious disclaimer for death my man. it's sad, okay, i'm bad at writing angst but it's sad. also cursing, and smoking. thank u ! enjoi

 

Based off the song I Exist  Exist I Exist by Flatsound, please listen as you read this (-:

 

“You’re crying.”

 

The voice came from behind him, deep and all too familiar. He wasn’t startled, had heard his roommates keys in the lock, but that didn’t mean it was welcome. “Fuck off, Shane.”

 

The small apartment was a hazy yellow in the setting sun, casting shadows around the room. Ryan sat, frantically wiping away the traces of his recent tears, his sniffling too loud to avoid any uncomfortable conversations. Shane mumbled something before stalking off to the kitchen, leaving Ryan to his own once again. The amount of willpower it took the boy to not immediately break back down into tears was incredulous. His neck rang sore from sitting cross legged on the floor, but every bone in his body felt like it had been turned to stone. Weighed down with the sheer feeling of grievance.

 

He wasn’t new to death. Death was an old friend, they were familiar. He lost his family at 18, and he’d lost a boyfriend 2 years ago. But losing his best friend was something he wasn’t prepared to deal with. They’d said he had a week, and Ryan couldn’t get away from work. He trusted Brent to hold on just a little while longer, just so he could say goodbye.

 

The call came 3 hours ago. It was his girlfriend, voice watery. He knew what the call was about before he even picked up, and his chest rattled as if on cue. He knew the chorus of “No.” that tumbled from his lips did nothing to aid the heartbreak, but he couldn’t bring himself to end the call. He’d dropped his phone onto the floor, sliding after it, a hole being torn into his mind. For the first minute, there wasn’t tears. He wasn’t even breathing; just staring blankly down at his socks, ears ringing in the dead silence. “Ryan?” She crackled.

 

He’d started out sobbing, clawing at his chest as desperate whispers left him. After awhile, the sobs died down to weeps, and then to silent tears and occasional sniffles. He hadn’t moved to check if Sherri had hung up, just sat there. The sun started to set, and Shane would be home soon.

 

Now, as Shane banged pots in the kitchen, he didn’t know what a good chorus of action was. He could tell the gentle giant the truth, though he’d never known Brent personally; but his heart flared at the thought of confessing a blip in his sunshine to the one man that causes the sunshine in the first place. He was being a prick to the one person that could truly help Ryan feel better… out of fear.

 

He realized, now, that Shane had muttered “Alright, Buddy,” with that sweet voice he always used with Ryan when he was upset. A stark contrast from the usual heat to his words when they joked around. It did these awful, terrible things to Ryan’s heart. Reasoning with his thrumming mind, he hauled himself up and into the small kitchen. The fragrant smell of garlic hung heavy in the air, water boiling quietly on the stove. 

 

“What are you making?” Ryan asked, feigning a comfort between them. Shane noticeably grimaced, wooden spoon scraping at the pan in front of him.

 

“Garlic Alfredo Spaghettini. Grab me the chicken from the sink, please.”

 

Some part of the small boy was incredibly grateful his counterpart hadn’t asked about the tracks on his cheeks. Shane wasn’t the kind of person to nose around in other people’s emotions, never had been. Ryan needed this… this domestic moment together to forget everything. To pretend, in a bubble of Shane, that it was alright. Because maybe, while they sat giggling over dinner, Ryan didn’t have to think about the funeral on Thursday. 

 

“Alright, I fed you. You gonna tell me what’s wrong now?” Shane asked the obviously on edge boy, setting his fork down across his plate. Ryan’s head shot up, immediately beginning to squirm under Shane’s pointed gaze.

 

He really didn’t want to tell Shane why he had been sitting on a floor with nail marks covering his body, but now was as good a time as ever he supposed.

 

Before he could even open his mouth, the tears were back, hot and flowing down his face. Shane’s gaze softened, but he didn’t say anything. Just waited for Ryan’s response. He took a shaky breath, straightening his back as he turned to face Shane. Ryan ignored the instinct to gently rest his hand in the others.

 

“Remember Brent? My friend with cancer?”

 

A misty realization crossed Shane’s face, followed by a glaze in his eyes. “Ryan…” He began, finally reaching out for his hand. “When?”

 

“A-a few hours ago,” Ryan stammered, pain coming back in full swing. 

 

“Jesus, man. You could’ve called me, I would’ve come home for you Ryan. I’m so sorry,” Shane whispered, hazel eyes frantically searching his friends.  _ Home for you _ . Their hands were still resting together as they sat in a light silence, dinner long forgotten.

k

“It was… expected. I’ll get over it. It’s alright Shane. Don’t worry about me, yeah?”

 

“You’re allowed to not be okay. The few times I talked to Brent we just… talked about you. How-how much of a good  _ friend  _ you are, Ry.” Shane was crying now, thumb rubbing shakily over the back of Ryan’s hand. 

 

It didn’t mean anything, of course. Just a comfort. It did, however, plant some sort of warmth in the previously hollow chest of Ryan. “Alright.”

 

The evening was quite dull as they sat and talked until the moon peeked through the living room window. “I’m going to go look at the stars,” Ryan mumbled, untangling himself from the blankets they had been wrapped in. “Let me come with you, you’re horseshit at constellations.”

 

They fell asleep out there, in the warmth of a Californian night. The poppies Ryan planted danced in the wind, a gentle scent washing over the entangled bodies as they slept. The cuddling wasn’t planned, and they woke up blushing, scrambling to be apart.

 

Fools.

 

***

 

Two months after the funeral, Ryan sat quietly beside Shane at work, absentmindedly tapping away on his keyboard. He had been stressing to  _ finally  _ get the editing done for this week's episode, back sore from sitting in the same place all day. “Coffee?” Shane asked, tugging out one of Ryan’s earbuds. 

 

“Mmm, I’ll get it,” Came the grumbled response as his knuckles loudly cracked. Shane didn’t bother saying what he wanted, Ryan already knew. The break room was practically empty as he pressed buttons, quietly humming to himself. They’d been doing well after Brent. It still hurt sometimes, but he wasn’t scared anymore, and Shane was always there for him. The only issue now, of course, was the constant  _ want  _ he felt for his gangly friend. Ryan had surpassed a crush, he had become a veritable scholar in ways to get Shane’s skin against his. This was shown in the way he handed the boys coffee over, finger outstretched just enough that they brushed one another.  _ Thump, Thump.  _

 

If he noticed how clingy Ryan was, he chose not to comment on it.

 

The workday dragged by until they could finally head home. takeout bag crinkling in the breeze. They had been sitting on a couch, watching Spring Baking Championship, when Ryan noticed Shane staring at him. “What?”

 

Shane smiled, shrugging. “You look weird.”

 

“Wow, thanks asshole.”

 

“It’s… a good weird.”

 

“What constitutes ‘Good Weird’, Madej?”

 

“You’re… never mind.”

 

He shot down any attempt of Ryan trying to figure out what he was going to say, turning back to the T.V.

 

Annoyed, the shorter boy huffed and stood up, dusting the popcorn off his shirt. “Alright, that’s fine. I’ll head to bed then. Night, Shane,” He mumbled. Ryan just wanted to know what the fuck  _ Good Weird  _ meant.

 

“Just call me pretty next time.”

 

***

 

They had been arguing for god knows how long, and Ryan was fucking exhausted, okay? He just wanted to come to an agreement. The air was frigid in late November, Shane had a lit cigarette hanging from his lips, as if to prove a point. 

 

“I’m just  _ saying,  _ I don’t like the fact that you smoke. I’m not trying to- to fucking control your life, I’m just tired of everything smelling like it Shane. I hate it,” Ryan growled, tugging at his hair in a bone deep annoyance. Shane just rolled his eyes, flicking the embers into the wind passing below.

 

“Febreze.”

 

“God, you’re fucking irritable. Ever thought about the fact that I lost one best friend to fucking cancer, maybe I don’t need to lose another? Ever think about that?”

 

Shane’s eyes immediately went wide as the realization settled on his shoulders. The dart is still pinched between his fingers, but he doesn’t bring it to his lips again. Even in the dark, Ryan can see the fact that he’s gone completely rigid. He lets out a shaky  _ fuck  _ before turning back to his red faced roommate. “I.. hadn’t even thought about it.”

 

“Yeah, no shit.”

 

They stood like that, Ryan staring up at Shane with those big watery eyes, pleading for something he couldn’t make out. “I can't lose you, Shane. I can’t.”

 

“The world would go on, though,” Shane whispers, barely heard above the pounding of Ryan’s heart. 

 

“No. Mine wouldn’t.”

 

“You can find another friend, Ry. I’m not the only man alive.”

 

“Maybe I don’t want another  _ friend _ , maybe I… maybe I want you. Only you, always.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Shane?”

 

“Ryan.”

 

The air changed as Ryan took the only step he needed to, merely inches apart from the man he’d spend 8 months wanting. 8 months pining, and crying, and taking every chance to be pressed against him.  _ Now or never. _

 

The song inside switched.

 

Lips met in some sort of hungry rage, chests flush against one another as everything spilled out. Buckets of sand were filing through linked fingers, rushing faster and faster the longer their lips moved. Everything was on fire, whines being swallowed up as Shane pinned Ryan against the balcony door. 

 

_ “Look at me look at me look at me look at me _

_ Because, I exist I exist I exist I exist” _

 

Everything slid into place, hands tugging at hair, tears mingling in a sweet and salty desperation. “Jesus, Shane,” Ryan began as they broke apart, panting. “I’m so fucking in love with you. I’m so  _ fucking  _ in love, and it terrifies me. This is the scariest shit to ever happen, and I’ve gone face to face with demons, fuck. Every minute you fucking- you fucking  _ breathe  _ hear me is killing me, and I’ve never wanted anyone like I want-  _ need _ , you.” They were both crying, foreheads pressed together as if they were the only two left to inhabit this lonely, beautiful place.

 

“Everything I do, fuck, it’s… for you. Everything I am is because of some stupid shit you thought I didn’t hear, and I’m done hiding. I want you to stop smoking because I  _ fucking  _ love you, you giant, bumbling fool.”

 

“Hey Ryan?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I love you, too.”

 

“Shut up, Shane.”

 

***

 

One year anniversary of Brent, coming up on Shane and Ryan’s one month. It was a beautiful spring day, of course, and they were stuck indoors because Ryan was moping. Rightfully, but still. 

 

“Baby, remember when we ate dinner that night, and you were scared? Remember how tightly I held your hand?”

 

Ryan hummed in confirmation, leaning against Shane on their loveseat, cat purring on the opposite end. “That’s when I knew. I made this… this vow to protect you. To never let you hurt like that again. I’m going to try and keep that, always. Even when we’re old and wrinkly and sort of hate each other, I’ll keep you safe.”

 

“Fuck, you’re corny.”

 

“Illinois, baby!”

 

***

 

Shane Madej and Ryan Bergara were wed on October 23rd, 2020. They had to stop four (4) times during their vows because they were too giggly. The sun set just as it had that one fateful day, except this time, there was no curtain to mask the rays. 

 

There was only a veil to hide Brent’s gentle eyes as he watched the boy who always had been become the boy who will always be.

**Author's Note:**

> LOL alright this was fun, i'll be updating Not The Best pretty soon, so look out for that. In the mean time, you can chat with me on my tumblr/twitter @ hotdagadamn


End file.
